Page 23 of The Viking in the Vault
Soon, Elena might know too.
Will she accept it…or will she refuse to see me again?
Am I going to lose her?
“Elena is a student,” Davina goes on, treating me now as if I’m a wild animal. Fine–I may as well be. I will not be separated from my fenvarra. “She needs to return to her studies. No one will stop you from seeing her again, if that’s what she desires.”
Elena looks at Ves and speaks swiftly in her language. Ves translates for her, their words slow and steady. “Elena says…stay with her tonight…” Ves says–though I can see in the Skoll’s eyes that they doubt their friend’s safety with me. “She think…best you not answer questions until tomorrow.”
Elena looks up at me again, nodding. “Safe,” she whispers. “We go.”
Those words–so simple, soft–nearly undo me. I don’t deserve her, don’t deserve this steadfastness she’s offering me. And yet…she is my fenvarra. The thought of letting her go, even for a moment, is unbearable.
Davina exhales slowly, then exchanges a few words with Elena, Ves, and their elder Merati scholar. The conversationis clearly contentious–but in the end, Elena grasps my arm, Davina giving me a resigned look.
“Fine,” Davina says. “We’ll proceed with our questions tomorrow. For now, you’ll go to Elena’s home with her.”
I’m overjoyed at the news, though I try to maintain a strong front. “Thank you.”
“But if you do anything to harm her or even try to claim her as fenvarra…” Davina says–and I can feel the tension rolling off of her, and Ves. Everyone else is oblivious. “You must know things have changed since your time. Do not touch her, Ragnar.”
Davina’s warning echoes through my thoughts. My jaw tightens as I meet her gaze, the weight of her implication sinking into my chest. Do not touch her. As if I would harm Elena, as if I haven’t already sworn to myself that I would die before letting any harm come to her. But I keep my voice steady when I reply.
“I would never harm her,” I say, my tone low but firm. “She is everything to me.”
Davina narrows her eyes slightly, but she nods. “Then prove it,” she says simply.
Elena tugs gently at my arm, her hand light but insistent. I look down at her, my anger softening at the sight of her concerned expression. “Come,” she says, her voice calm and reassuring. “Safe.”
The scholars behind Davina exchange murmurs, their curiosity and wariness palpable. I hear none of it; my focus is entirely on Elena. She leads me out of the library, Fenrik at my side, his ears twitching as he glances back at the others.
The skarnhound is just as uneasy as I am.
The cold air outside is a relief after the stifling tension of the library. The evening sky is painted with streaks of purple and gold, the auroras shimmering faintly on the horizon. Elena keeps her hand on my arm as we make our way down the snowypath, her steps deliberate and steady. Ves is on her other side, the young Skoll giving me wary looks.
“She want…tell you safe,” Ves says. “But…”
This is them talking now–not Elena. I fix my eyes on Ves.
“She good,” Ves says. “Do not hurt her.”
I nod. “I would never harm her.”
Ves exchanges a few words with Elena, and then they branch off–down the hill toward a clump of cottages. Elena keeps leading me forward, the cold nipping at my nose. We reach the crest of a hill overlooking the icy expanse, the lights of the village twinkling below.
For a moment, it’s just us—her hand steady on my arm, Fenrik’s breath misting in the cold, the wind whispering across the tundra.
And then she looks up at me, her voice quiet but unshaken. “Ragnar,” she says, her gaze unwavering, “fenvarra.”
She still doesn’t know what it means. I need to tell her. But as her hand tightens ever so slightly on my arm, grounding me in this strange new world, I let myself believe she’s promising herself to me.
If I can trust anything in this unfamiliar time, it is her.
And I make a silent vow that I will earn my place at her side.
11
ELENA
